


Good Girl

by babydraco



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Genderswap, Kink Meme, Spanking, always a girl!Face - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babydraco/pseuds/babydraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response from the original 2010 A Team Kink Meme, pretty basic story concept aside from the fact that it is genderswapped with always a girl!Face</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Girl

“Are you sure you're not drunk, Ma'am?” 

Face peered blearily at the concerned expression of the sergeant who was propping her up and then at the empty glass that had contained her seventh Cosmo. She should have been on her seventh Cosmo by the pool of a luxury hotel in like, the South of France or something, instead of on leave in the middle of a war downing not!Cosmos and trying to forget tall brunettes and impossible to please superior officers. 

“You are entirely right, Private,” she said. “I'm going back to the- the-”

“Hotel?”

“Thanks. You're so smart.” 

The cab driver asked her the same thing when he dropped her off outside the moderately priced hotel, god, why did everyone keep asking her that? He also wanted to know if she was “okay”, which, as a petite blonde with what she admitted was a smoking body, usually meant one of two things from men, one, he genuinely thought she couldn't handle herself, or two, he was hoping she couldn't. Face poked at the buttons on the elevator, eventually getting what she hoped was the right one. More fumbling with the keycard before finally getting inside her room and tripping over her spiked heels. 

“Lieutenant.” 

“Aaah!” The last person you wanted to run into when you'd just fallen on your drunken face with your ass in the air was your Colonel. No point in wondering how he got in, either. She was on her feet as fast as possible, figuring this was not going to end well. Hannibal looked madder than Sister Margaret after that incident at the fun fair. Hannibal leaned against the dresser, arms folded across his chest. 

“Enjoying your evening?”

“I'm on leave...”

“You had a meeting scheduled for tonight, about that mission we're going on as soon as we get back. We waited two hours for you.”

“I'm on leave,” Face protested, trying to pull her skirt back into a more respectable arrangement. “I don't have to go to meetings.” 

“It's never that simple for us,” Hannibal said. “Not for an officer in my unit. But you thought it was better to dress like a slut and get wasted. Explain what was going through your head. ”

“Well, I, uh....” 

Hannibal circled around behind her, hands resting on her shoulders. He didn't expect faithfulness from her, he'd made it clear he expected nothing sexual, which only drove her more nuts because she liked to know where she stood with her lovers. He gave her a little kiss behind her ear.   
“What am I going to do with you?”

“Lots of things?” Face offered hopefully. She turned around on her tiptoes and kissed him deeply, thrilled when he let her pull them both to the bed. Just being this close made her a little wet, with the bonus that maybe she could get him to stop being mad with a nice orgasm. 

“Turn over,” he growled. Face awkwardly maneuvered herself onto her stomach, her ass pressed up against Hannibal's hardening cock. He pulled her skirt up slowly, Face shivered at the sudden exposure. He snapped the elastic of her blue silk thong against her skin. “This doesn't help your case and they definitely need to come off.”

“Off,” Face murmured, with a little moan as he slid them down to her knees. He brushed a hand over her skin. 

“I'll never get used to you young girls and your obsession with waxing.”

“I'll never get used to you old guys and your...old guy complaining.” Chrissa had lectured her about impossible beauty standards and being anti feminist but she didn't really get it, not being from LA. Face let out a surprised squeal as Hannibal's hand laid a stinging smack on her ass. Her hand immediately shot back to cover herself, but he took her wrist firmly and placed her hand on the bedspread. More slaps, each one making her bottom jiggle. Face panted, shifting her hips, getting wetter and wetter despite the pain. She heard foil crinkling, but instead of Hannibal's cock, something wooden snapped against her already sore backside. 

“EEEK!” Her own hairbrush, her own damn flat backed wooden hairbrush with all natural bristles. “Holy Mary!”

What if Hannibal was actually, like, really angry with her? Chrissa had always been upset with her too. Face was pretty much used to never being able to make anyone happy, couldn't make anyone stay just by being herself. She was only good at two things, once you got past those, she was always doing everything wrong. There were so many things she wanted, Hannibal being proud of her seemed to always make not having the other things feel less important. Face squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from escaping, she wasn't going to look weak on top of everything else. 

He'd stopped. Why? Did he think she couldn't take it? She was so hot and horny now, trying to shift her body to relieve her swollen sex, battling tears at the same time. And then his hand stroked her burning skin gently.

“Shhh.” 

“I-” she choked out.

“I said, shhh.” Long, calloused fingers, then a hard cock slipping carefully inside her. Face moaned. “Good girl, you're such a good girl,” Hannibal whispered soothingly as she came with a violent cry. He petted her hair and repeated his promise that she was a good girl and worth something.


End file.
